Define complicated
by agnessan
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has broken his promise toward his friends. How is he dealing with the guilt? Maybe a certain person can be there to help ...


**Authors note:** Around a week ago, I watched Sherlock for the first time. I had seen parts of the episodes on television during the years but this time I watched it all thru. As you probably understand I got completely hooked. This is my first Sherlock fanfiction, probably just a one shot. I'm afraid the characters are a bit out OOC but well, I published it anyway. I'm also from Sweden which means English isn't my first language and there may be both grammatical wrongs and others. I would be grateful if you guys pointed it out so I can correct it if you find any. Hope you like it!

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It was in the middle of the night at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes were sitting in his armchair. A knock on the door and Molly appeared in the doorway. Sherlock gave her a quick glance – messy hair, lose fitted clothes and tired eyes, she probably hadn't slept well these last couple of days. Her eyes looked tired, they were filled with sadness and it was all because of him.

Mary was dead and he was responsible, he had broken his promise and lost two friends. Maybe all of his friends, maybe they all blamed him. This was probably why Molly was here, she blamed him too.

Sherlock sighed, he hadn't been sleeping at all these four days since Mary was murdered, he knew it wasn't good, but he just couldn't fell asleep.

"Oh Sherlock, you look terrible," Molly said and took a step towards the couch. He didn't even look up, he couldn't handle the blame that he suspected filled her eyes. "Can I do something?"

Did she just ask if she could help him? Sherlock glanced up at her and was surprised when her eyes wasn't filled with blame, they were filled with something else – compassion? Or something much stronger, something he hadn't the ability of understanding, not yet.

"Molly … It was my fault, I'm the reason Mary is dead."

"NO!" said Molly, her eyes fixed at him. "You didn't pull the trigger, it wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself, you stupid man!"

Molly and continued shouting while Sherlock got lost in thoughts. It hadn't been what he expected. He had thought that she was angry at him because of other reason. Then he realized his own mistake, he had forgot that it was Molly Hooper, the one women he could always count on. The one who mattered the most. She was the one who had made his faked death possible. He could always trust her – always – and she trusted him.

"Thank you," he said and Molly went quiet.

"Thank you?" surprise crossed her face. "Thank you for what?"  
"Trusting me."

"Of course I do. You know I always trust you Sherlock."

"And you believe in me."

"You know I do, what are you talking about?"

"You are the only one who actually does this without hesitation."

A small smile crept up on Molly's thin lips and made her tired face look alive again.

"Oh Sherlock, what are we going to do with you. You do have friends, you have friends who trust you and believe in you."

"John don't."

The smile faded and she looked if possible even more tired know.

"No, not right now, but he will, someday. He lost the love of his life, the mother of his child, he need someone to blame and unfortunately he is blaming you. You need to be patient Sherlock."

"He is my best friend."

"I know Sherlock, I know he is." Molly said with tears streaming down her face. "When did you last sleep?" Sherlock didn't answer. "Well, you need sleep and that is know."  
She grabbed his hand and pulled him up onto his feet. This tiny women was stronger than she looked he thought.

"I can't sleep." he said sharply, but she didn't listen and he didn't even bother to fight back. Just let her lead him to his room and told him to sit down at the bed.  
"You need to sleep."

Molly took of his shoes and socks. Then she told him to take of his pants. He didn't have the energy to argue, he took of his pants and his shirt. When he caught Molly looking at him she blushed and looked away. She helped him lay down and pulled the blanket over him. Then she reached out her hand and pulled her fingers thru his dark curly hair. It felt good, he had to admit that.

"Can you stay?"

He wasn't sure why he just asked her that or why he wanted her too, but he did. Molly looked a bit insecure at first, but then she nodded.

"I stay."

"Come here," he said and lifted the blanket up for her.

Molly took of her pants so she only had a t-shirt and knickers. No way she was going to sleep fully closet, even if it was in the same bed as Sherlock Holmes, or well in her dreams she didn't even had clothes when Sherlock made his appearance. But right now it didn't feel sexual at all. He was in pain and so was she. It was just to people who needed to comfort each other. Molly laid down next to him and he pulled the blanket up over them both.

"Good night Molly Hooper."

"Good night Sherlock Holmes."

They both fell asleep within seconds.

Sometimes when people are in pain things that aren't reasonable at all happens. It just happens and it can be frightening. Luckily for Sherlock and Molly they had several hours to sleep before realizing that something just had happen between them.  
Somehow during the night the got cuddled up to each other. Sherlock's arm protectively wrapped around Molly's waist and her head resting at his bare chest.


End file.
